okay, first of all, I am SO EXCITED about your February Fluff requests, and, second of all, might I please request #10 "You kept that photo of us in your wallet?" with either Frankie or Marcus M? (whichever ~inspires~ you most)
thank you so much, lovely! ❤️ (-v on main)
v!!! im so happy i get to write something for you, thank you so much for requesting @letterfromvienna ❤️ this has become marcus moreno’s weekend and we’re just living in it
February Fluff Prompt #10: “You kept that photo of us in your wallet?”
Pairing: Marcus Moreno x gn!Reader
Word Count: 1,073!
Tags: established relationship/marriage; slight negativity over appearance; fluff courtesy of wonderful husband Marcus Moreno
ct's february fluff prompt list | masterlist
“Babe?” you call down the hallway, “do you have tip money for the gardener?”
“Wallet’s on my nightstand,” Marcus answers from the bathroom, the sound of his shower starting drowning out the end of his sentence.
You go into the bedroom to his side of the bed, reaching past his nightly reading book and bottle of melatonin to the cracked leather wallet that’s starting to deteriorate. Missy had gifted it to him the very first Christmas the three of you had spent together and he’s refused to replace it since. You add that to your mental list to plan a shopping trip with Missy, the perfect present for Marcus’s upcoming birthday on your mind.
It’s a miracle his wallet doesn’t fall apart when you open it to slip a crisp bill out, sliding it into the hand of your regular gardener with the promise you’d see them next month. With the door closed you flip the worn leather back shut, and that’s when it decides to upset some of its contents onto the tiles of the entryway. His credit cards clatter down and you sigh, squatting to slip them back into the pockets with barely-there seams.
Something else had fluttered out too, too square to be currency and too big to be a business card. You have to reach under the console table to snag it, unfolding it to see what it is. Your breath slows.
It’s a photo.
The first time you met Marcus was unconventional to say the least. What had been a regular day at the office for you soon clashed with the chaotic working style of the Heroics, the latest supervillains choosing the gray cubicles of your high-rise as their backdrop for destruction. In your effort to help evacuate others you misjudged how much time you had left to get out yourself, a split-second miscalculation had you grasping onto air instead of the steel beam you thought you’d been reaching for.
Falling certainly felt like flying, except you had no control over direction other than your downward trajectory. You never had to find out the end result of that journey, the force of arms stopping your fall knocking the wind out of your lungs. Someone was holding you, carrying you back down to solid ground at a much more pleasurable pace. When you felt safe enough to open your eyes again, you’re embarrassed that your first thought was how easy on the eyes he was. Was being good-looking a requirement to be a superhero?
“Are you alright?” he asked once you’re safely on the sidewalk, eyes scanning your body for any concerns. When he’s satisfied there isn’t any, he searches for the same outcome on your face, making sure you weren’t too shaken up.
You nod, trying to swallow the frog in your throat from being rescued by your handsome Heroic and gosh, did he have to pout his lips like that right now?
“Thank you,” was all you could squeak out.
Those lips broke into a smile that left you weak in the knees. “My pleasure.”
Someone shouted for his attention and he almost seemed disappointed to leave. But he had a city to save, and you had a hell of an incident report to fill out.
The next time you saw him was in the papers, front page plastered with the news story of your office fiasco. The main photo is of him, wind effortlessly sweeping his hair and build perfectly poised like he’s straight out of a comic book. And in his arms, face so terror-stricken it’s almost comical, is you, holding onto to him for dear life. It’s such a bad photo of you you’re embarrassed any time your cubicle mates bring it up, throwing it out any time one of them leaves it on your desk with red-sharpied hearts drawn all around it.
You meet him later that week, at the gala the city held to help fund for the damages that now littered downtown. You have pictures from that night, you done up in evening wear and him in his thick-rimmed glasses and suit that made him look like James Bond. There’s an appropriate space between your posing bodies, but you swore his hand lingered on your waist a moment longer after the photographer disappeared. Your inkling proved correct when he asked you out for coffee before the night ended.
There’s pictures from that first date, a photo booth strip that ends in your first kiss. And portraits from your wedding adorn the entryway you’re in now, vacation snapshots from the years after filling picture frames that sit along the table.
Out of all of these options, you gawk at the picture he’d decided to keep closest to him.
“Are you alright?”
You look up to find Marcus here now, face half-hidden by the towel he’s rubbing through his dripping hair. From your spot on the floor you present your hand up, showing him what you’re holding.
“You kept that photo of us in your wallet?”
Black and white pixelation of newspaper print. Heroic Marcus. Goofy-faced you. Marcus smiles fondly at it, but it turns into a quizzical look when he sees your face.
“Of course I did, it’s how we met.”
“Marcus…”
“That was the best day of my life, why wouldn’t I want to remember it?”
He holds his hand out for you to take and helps you up onto your feet until you’re standing in front of him.
“A beautiful angel quite literally fell from the sky and onto my lap. Changed my life forever.”
You snort. “But I look so dumb in that photo.”
He stares back down at it, confused, before his face softens, looking at you endearingly. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”
His hand reaches up to trace your cheek, cupping your face tenderly. “You’re perfect, angel.” Then he breathes out a laugh. “Besides, I pull much worse faces in my sleep. I don’t know how you deal with me.”
You pull him in for what ends up being a half-kiss, your laughter pulling at your lips too much for the full effect. When he tries opening his wallet to slip the photo back in, the seams finally give, credit cards clacking back onto the floor as the torn fabric flaps pathetically.
You nod to yourself. “If you won’t pick a new photo, then you’re at least getting a new wallet.”
Luke: *swings a lightsaber at Grogu, which featured prominently in his traumatizing memories*
Luke: *has a droid shoot at Grogu, who is baby*
Luke: now you must choose….jedi or mandalorian
Grogu: get me the fuck out of here
(-letterfromvienna on main)
DJFJDBDJSKSJ YEAH
Grogu was like “alright I’m fuckin done with this lil bitch” and destroyed the training remote fjdbdjs I somehow feel like he’ll manage to choose both for Story Purposes but nonetheless
#the pornhub one ......... makes me wonder what kind of *movie* marc would make
my unsolicited and h*rny suggestion: Marc would make his partner hold the phone/camera and film their POV. he’d show off a little too because he knows he’s being filmed. when you ask why he wants you to film, he’s all “so you can remember what it’s like, baby,” like you’d ever forget
(-letterfromvienna)
P.S. I’m really sorry that we have barely talked before and THIS is what I send you 😅
vienna omg!!!!! this was the last thing i red before i went to bed last night and it kept me up because i was thinking that this would be a great fic to write during kinktober and then i woke up and you had written it??? i'm so fucking excited to read it omg you have no idea, my head has been spinning all morning
please, everyone, go read b-roll by @letterfromvienna right now!!!
@letterfromvienna in their newest fic Desperation : What would you think about the sight of your boyfriend fucking your pillow? The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, the buttoned-up lawyer, the good Catholic boy, rutting his cock on your pillow because it smells like you.
thank you @keeper0fthestars @letterfromvienna @queenofthefaceless for the tags! 🙈 answering this weeks late because i finally have some stuff jotted down for the next update:
“Javi,” you tease, prodding at his thigh with the edge of your foot, “see something you like?”
His eyes stay on your mouth a second longer even as he smiles in response, flickering back up when you nudge him again.
Tagging: whoever wants to play! if you see this it’s an invitation to add a wip snippet in, i want to see what you have coming up 😊
for the memorable scenes meme: it's kind of random, but the end of "come and rest your bones with me," when Wayne sees Steve and Eddie asleep in their pillow fort. the descriptions are so evocative and it's such a tender image. Steve and Eddie go through so much that it's easy to see them as battle-weary adults, but Wayne's point of view—especially "They look cozy, comfortable. They look sweet."—really reminds you how young they actually are. that scene has really stuck with me :) (-letterfromvienna)
ahh hii omg thank you!!! 🥺🥺🥺 i love seeing the scenes i write through your guys' eyes, it's a pretty spectacular thing to see what you think when you read them and to see like how you interpret them. and y e a h, you got this one!! they are just kids still!!! and this scene, this whole fic really, was absolutely meant to be a little slice of them getting to be the kids that they are. i'm so happy that came across well in this!!
and if there's one thing about me i am GOING to make these guys soft with each other!! i am GOING to put them in tender situations with one another lol. but i'm so so happy you liked this one so much, ty ty!!
for Sleepover Saturday, I'll toss it back at you: book recommendations?? hope you're having a great weekend! (this is @letterfromvienna btw)
ooooh hi hello! thanks for asking <3 my weekend is good so far, hope yours is too!
i really, really love frankenstein and the haunting of hill house (or anything by shirley jackson) in the classics department. also pride and prejudice.
more recently, i love coraline, and i think room by emma donoghue is incredibly written, as difficult as it is to read. i haven't read it in a while, but the first time i did, i read it front to cover in one sitting. came out of that reading sesh completely dehydrated and changed forever.
for the fic writers ask game: 2, 17, 30, 36! (xoxo vienna)
Hi V! 💕 Thanks so much, these are fun ones x
2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?
“Oral sex,” “Porn without plot,” and “vaginal fingering” hahahahahaha no comment
17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?
To be honest, I’m rarely a huge AU person! If I like something, half the appeal is in the setting. Having said that though I do love a good Regency or medieval AU (just depends on the pairing)
30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?
Approach Shift was (at the time) miles out of my comfort zone. It was the first time I’d written something set on our planet instead of in outer space haha, and it felt far harder to make it feel natural and real (go figure). I definitely learned a lot about how it feels trying to writing an engaging scene sans robots or magic!
36. Do you visualize what you read/write?
Sometimes! Anything mechanically complex, like fighting or sex, I definitely visualise. I also see places and people but sometimes I can get bogged down in wanting to bring everything I see into the scene and that’s not always necessary. The story doesn’t always need a paragraph about the loose thread on the carpet, but it helps me to know it’s there when I’m feeling out a setting.
